Stipulations
by Andromeda Prime
Summary: TF:Prime. Optimus learns of a previously unknown rule in the Autobot Code Book. Rated M for smut and slash. COMPLETE.


**Blame **Jee Goo **for planting the bunny in my head. And kudos to her, **Eisee does it, **and **cousinswar **for helping out with this :3**

.-.-.

"Um, sir?"

Optimus looked up from his work to find the source of the anxious voice, and was most surprised to see the thick frame of Ultra Magnus in the doorway of his quarters.

"Yes, Ultra Magnus?" The Prime set the datapad he'd been reading aside and beckoned for the other mech to step in. "Is there something concerning you?"

"I-I…" the other mech trailed off. Optimus narrowed his optics at Ultra Magnus in concern. This was highly unlike the stoic and professional Commander of the Wreckers that he'd remembered. Then again, it had been eons since they'd laid optics on each other. At least until two days prior. "What is troubling you?"

"Sir, may I ask you about a… rather personal issue?"

Personal? That was unlike Magnus. As far back as Optimus had known him, the Commander of the Wreckers didn't talk about his personal life with anyone, preferring to keep his professional and personal lives separate from each other. The Prime's optics widened slightly. "What is it that is troubling you so much that you break your protocol to come to me for personal-"

"Sir, I was looking through the Autobot code books and I came across something rather…unusual."

"Unusual how?"

The Commander of the Wreckers fidgeted and struggled to meet the Prime's optics, looking down at his pedes. "Further back in the book, where almost no one looks…and that would explain why none of us knew of this rule…there is a stipulation concerning the Prime and their immediate subordinates."

Oh Primus. Optimus arched his optic ridges. "And what exactly did this stipulation say, Magnus?"

"The Autobot Code Book, section 390, subsection H, states "the Prime's duties to their people are not just to lead them. The Prime is hereby required to fulfill any intimate fantasies and desires, short of fancies of a morbid nature such as mutilation and death, of his or her immediate subordinates, which include the senators from the city-states, heads of the military-""

"And would also include you, the Commander of the Wreckers," Optimus cut in. The Prime leaned back, his back strut meeting the wall, and fixed his optics on Magnus's quivering frame. "So what is the personal issue you wish to discuss?"

He already knew what Ultra Magnus was getting at. But he still wanted to hear it.

"Sir," Magnus twitched and blinked his optics. There was no filter on his mouth right now, and courtesy was the least of his worries at the moment as he blatantly said, "I would very much like to frag you."

"Hmm…" The Prime made a sound as if he were contemplating the question disguised as a statement. He stared at the Commander of the Wreckers, doing his best to keep his faceplates free of any decipherable emotion. The tension in the room was thick, and he could feel Magnus's optics watching him, taking in his each and every movement. Optimus looked away after a few moments, grabbing the datapad he'd been reading earlier and placing it into his subspace.

"And what else?" Optimus purred from somewhere deep in his chassis, the vibrations sending shivers down Magnus's spinal strut. The Prime looked back towards the blue mech and smiled suggestively. It took all of the Wrecker Commander's willpower to not jump the red and blue mech right then and there.

"And…and…" Magnus was at a complete loss for words. Optimus raised his servo, his palm up, and curled his digits towards him, using his index finger to beckon the other mech forward. Magnus's optics fixated on the movement of that single digit, barely hearing the Autobot Commander ask, "And what else do you wish to do to me?"

"I-I…" Magnus managed to find his higher functions and began stepping over to the berth, his optics moving from that enchanting digit to the bright blue optics of the Prime that seemed to see into his very spark. He raised his own servo and grasped Optimus's servo by the wrist, bringing it to his lipplates and dragging his lip components over the Prime's limb. "I want to frag you so hard that you forget how to walk."

Optimus's optics dimmed slightly. Magnus took that as his cue to continue. "Want to frag you so hard you forget what stardate it is. I-I want to take you in this berth, right now, have you scream out my name until it's the only thing your processor can remember."

The Prime emitted hummed in contentment and arousal. He drew his servo away and leaned back even further, putting his arms behind him, placing his servos on the berth and putting all his weight on his palms, smiling and dimming the light in his optics. His pose screamed an open invitation at the Wrecker for him to come and lay atop him, to do sinfully pleasurable things to his frame. Giving in to the invite, Ultra Magnus slowly climbed onto the berth, careful to not land on the Prime, and gasped when Optimus quickly got off his servos and pulled his helm towards him, kissing him full on the lipplates.

Both the Prime and Magnus gave into the kiss. Optimus made a noise halfway between a moan and a groan and parted his lip components slightly, allowing the other mech the opportunity to slip his glossa into the warm cavern that was the Prime's mouth. His own glossa was met with the Prime's glossa, both of them battling for dominance. After a brief moment Optimus drew his helm back and moaned as Magnus nipped at his lower lipplate.

"And what else, friend?" Optimus gasped out. He jerked his lower frame and chuckled at the startled noise that Ultra Magnus emitted when their heated interfacing panels ground against each other. "What are your other desires? What do you wish to do to me?"

Magnus drew his helm back and it was Optimus's turn to nip at the other mech's lower lipplate, capturing the lower lip component between his dentae and tugging at it. The Magnus growled and yanked his helm away again and bit down on the Prime's neck cables, eliciting a moan from the bulkier mech,

"I want to worship your valve, bring you to the best overload of your life cycle with only my glossa." As if to make a point, the Wrecker's glossa flared out and tasted the heated metal, making the Prime quiver.

"I want for you to suck my spike until I reach my abandon, and I release my fluids into your oral cavity. Then after," Magnus trailed down the length of the Prime's frame, nipping at his neck cables, the glass windows of his chassis, and his abdominal plating, "I want to take you in your valve, take you hard and fast so that you are incapable of forming a coherent thought, until my name and only my name is on your glossa, because I want it to be the only thing you can remember in the throes of bliss."

Optimus vented harshly, attempting to cool his frame down so he wouldn't overheat. He shut his optics and his cooling fans clicked to life, roaring on a decibel equal to his primary engine. He felt the other mech's dentae leave their spot on his midsection, where Magnus had been nipping at the central abdominal seam, and trail down towards the apex of his thighs. A pleasant tingling sensation shot up his spinal strut as the Wrecker nipped at the seams of his interfacing panel, a silent plea for access.

"Let me in," Ultra Magnus murmured against the Prime's heated panel. "Come on, let me in."

The Prime opened his optics and let out a breathy chuckle, shifting his frame so his hips a little further away from the Magnus. The other mech vented in frustration and leaned forward, dragging his glossa over the panel. "I enjoy getting a little, as the humans call it, "worked up"," Optimus murmured, tilting his hips towards the smaller mech.

The fire behind Ultra Magnus's panel raged, screaming for him to claim the Prime, but Magnus only did his best to quell the flames and instead moved his lipplates to the Autobot Commander's left inner thigh, grazing his dentae along the metal. Above him, Optimus moaned. A servo he recognized as the Prime's placed itself atop his helm, gently thumbing one of his helm fins.

Optimus chuckled as Magnus shivered. He swiped his thumb over the other mech's finial again and received the same response. Looked like he'd found one of the Wrecker Commander's hotspots.

Shifting his focus from the left thigh to the right thigh, Magnus raised his servos from their resting place on the Prime's knee joints to his upper thighs, where they met his pelvic plating. The Magnus dipped his digits into the gaps between the armor, teasing the wires contained inside and smirking at the noises that Optimus made. When he was done teasing the Prime's hip wiring he withdrew his digits and gently traced circles on the outer thighs while continuing his ministrations, sucking and licking and nipping up the inner thigh towards the interfacing panel.

After what seemed to be his entire life-cycle, Optimus relented. The Prime tilted his helm back and vented a heavy breath as the _snick! _of his interfacing panel opening echoed in his temporary quarters.

In days gone by and worlds away, whenever a Wrecker was victorious they would let out a whoop to rouse the others to celebrate. Magnus had to remind himself that this was not Cybertron, there were only two other Wreckers around, and Optimus Prime was not a conquest. Optimus was so much more than a piece of land or treasure to be fought over. The Wrecker had reeled back a small distance, not expecting the noise of the panel opening to be so loud, but when he composed himself again he locked optics with Optimus. The Prime half-grinned at him, and Magnus took that as his cue to resume his attentions.

The Prime's valve was slicked with lubricant, and when Magnus neared it he swore the heat of a star paled in comparison to the red and blue mech's arousal. He closed his optics and inhaled the heady scent of the Prime's lubricant. His olfactory sensors were set afire, and he allowed his glossa to wander from his mouth and flick at the very top of the valve.

Gasping, the Prime's helm thunked against the wall as his sensors were stimulated, all the information sent through his neural net and into his processor. He clenched his servos into fists as he felt a digit work its way into his valve, and his intakes hitched when that digit was joined by a flexible, teasing glossa. A moment later, the digit retreated, and the Prime's hips were tilted up, servos sliding underneath his hips and grabbing onto his aft. Optimus managed to grasp some of his fleeting self-control and looked down to see Ultra Magnus between his legs, expression blissful and reverent as he continued to work him towards an overload with only his glossa.

"Y-yes," Optimus panted, mouth opening in a blissful whimper. "Yes." He unclenched his servos and arched his back strut, moaning wavering as Magnus withdrew his glossa. The other mech panted against the Prime's valve, his lip components and the area around them smeared with the Prime's lubrication. He kissed and nipped at the external sensors of the valve before reinserting his glossa and lapping away at the internal nodes, drinking whatever bit of Optimus's liquefied passion he could get on his glossa.

Optimus hung for an eternity on the edge of abandon, and was tipped over into overload when Magnus fixed his lipplates on the edges of his valve and sucked, _hard._

"_Ooooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhh," _Optimus moaned and gasped, hips bucking, legs stiffening and wrapping around the other mech's helm, servos grasping for life onto Magnus's armor. The Prime shut his optics and whimpered as overload ricocheted through his neural net and systems. His hips were tilted up and Magnus didn't stop licking and sucking, swallowing every bit of the red and blue mech's release he was able to.

The air around them smelled of ozone and heated metal. Magnus's lipplates, chin, and his front were coated with Optimus's lubricants. When the Prime's armor stopped rattling and the servos on his armor stopped their vise-like grip, Magnus disentangled himself from Optimus, setting his legs down and leaning over again to capture the Prime's lipplates in a kiss, not caring that he was sticky.

Optimus's engine gave a hard rev when he came down from his bliss and tasted himself on Ultra Magnus's lipplates and glossa. Primus, the entire room _smelled _of him. His arms shook slightly and his helm titled back a bit, dazed.

"Primus…" was all that the Prime could gasp out, his optics widened and glazed over as his processor spun wildly. When the other mech had said he wanted to give him the best overload of his life with only his glossa, he hadn't been joking.

Magnus set his lipplates in a thin line, clearly upset. "I bring you to a thunderous overload and the only designation you can say is that of Primus."

Optimus blinked his optics, staring at the ceiling above, before he managed to gain some control over his frame and he half sat up, resting on his forearms and staring at the Commander of the Wreckers. A few moments of tense silence passed between them before the Prime remembered his so-called duty.

Both mechs toppled off the berth and onto the floor with a thundering crash as a still-bared and freshly fragged Optimus tackled Ultra Magnus. When Magnus recovered from the shock of hitting the floor at such a speed and looked down, he saw Optimus tracing his digits along the seams of his own interfacing panel. He sent the command for his panel to open, and his spike immediately sprung out, the blue strip that ran along the top and the underside of the silver spike glowing with his arousal.

The Prime took the other mech's spike in his servo and closed his digits around the girth, rubbing his thumb over the tip, smearing the bead of bright blue transfluid that had made its way to the slit. He leaned in and flicked his glossa on the very head of the other mech's spike, savoring the way Magnus's servos shook. Optimus looked up, meeting the Wrecker's gaze. Without breaking optic contact, the Prime opened his mouth and lowered his faceplates.

It was obscene and arousing, how the commander of the Autobots took his spike in his mouth so quickly and expertly. The sensors peppered along his mechhood told him that Optimus was currently dragging his glossa along the underside of his spike. Magnus moaned and reached a servo out, placing it on the Prime's helm as Optimus's head bobbed between his thighs. In response Optimus lifted his helm up, releasing the Wrecker's spike from his mouth, a thin line of oral fluid hanging and connecting his lipplates with the silver and blue spike.

"Ah," Magnus groaned at the loss, wriggling his hips. He was aware of how unprofessional he must have looked, but he couldn't be bothered to care. "Optimus Prime, sir-"

Optimus wrapped his servo around the Wrecker's girth and yanked, smirking at the reaction he got from the other mech. "Just Optimus, Magnus." Then the Prime leaned down and closed his lips around the tip of the spike while stroking along the base with his digits. Magnus shook and moaned, and then overloaded _hard _when his partner flicked his glossa along the slit.

The Prime resisted the urge to reel back as the Wrecker's essence flooded into his oral intake, and he steadied himself with his free servo, placing it on Ultra Magnus's thigh and bobbing his helm as he drank the transfluids that the other mech gave up. When the flow ceased, Optimus drew off the spike in his mouth, still grasping it lightly in his servo, and looked up. The Autobot Commander chuckled at the sight of the Commander of the Wreckers splayed on the concrete floor, his own optics widened, bright, and staring up at the ceiling above.

He felt this to be highly out of character, but then again, so was this entire act. Optimus crawled his way up, stroking the silver faceplates of the Wrecker with his dark digits. Magnus didn't meet his optics, still in a daze, as he opened his mouth and uttered, "Primus above…"

"You complain that I only said the name of the Creator and yet you do the same," Optimus chastised the other mech light-sparkedly, nuzzling into the crook of Magnus's helm. How he was able to do so with all the heavy upgrades to his frame was a mystery whose answer was known only to Primus. Maybe Unicron as well.

Magnus blinked his optics repeatedly, waiting for his vision to come to focus and for his cognitive functions to return. He was only half aware of the heavy frame on his own frame. The Wrecker was glad when he was able to see straight and feel again. He turned his helm and saw the bright optics of Optimus Prime staring expectantly at him.

And felt his spent spike begin to pressurize again.

The tip of his spike bumped against his partner's inner thigh, which both he and Optimus felt. The Prime smiled and raised himself off his frame, kneeling over the Wrecker's lower frame. Magnus remembered that Optimus had left his valve completely bared to the open, and his optics fluttered when the red mech dragged his now-wet valve across the tip of his spike. Both mechs choked when Optimus lowered himself down onto the Wrecker's spike. The Prime closed his optics and gave a broken whimper as each interior valve sensor was set aflame. Rolling his hips, Optimus sighed as the sensation of fire raced through his neural circuitry.

Magnus groaned, feeling his spike encased in such velvet heat. He raised his servos and placed them on the Prime's hips, thrusting upward, pistoning up and down.

The Prime gasped as the Wrecker thrust into him, dragging his spike along each and every valve sensor. The red and blue mech rolled his hips and lifted himself up and down on the Wrecker's spike, gasping as he increased the tempo of their thrusts.

"P-please, M-Magnus!" Optimus gasped out, placing his servos on the Wrecker's abdominal plating. "M-Magnus!" The world spun around Optimus and he felt himself hit the floor, and when he looked up he saw the other mech hovering above him, fire in his optics and still pistoning his hips against the Prime's own. Magnus reached down and grabbed the Prime's legs, hooking them around his waist as he continued thrusting. "Yes, Optimus," he panted, looking down possessively at the Prime. "Say my name. Chant it as you chanted Primus's name."

"M-Magnus!" Optimus's servos reached out and grabbed at his shoulder plating, holding onto it tightly as overload struck for the Prime. His optics flared to near-white, his back arched, and his mouth opened as he shouted the Wrecker Commander's name over and over again. Ultra Magnus kept one servo on the Prime's legs around his waist and put the other underneath his back strut as he followed the Prime into overload. He closed his optics, and groaned as his spike gave up his transfluid.

Optimus's shaking died down, and the Prime choked at the sensation of the Wrecker's fluids flooding into his valve and trickling into his reproductive chamber. Without a spark merge, there was no chance of becoming sparked. The Prime went limp as the charge of overload left his frame.

Armor shaking, Magnus used his some of his last bits of strength to lower the Prime to the floor before collapsing beside the red mech. The ground shook, and he swore Optimus vent a breathy laugh. Quiet settled for a few minutes, accompanied only by the roars of their cooling fans and their primary engines. Ultra Magnus rolled onto his side, staring at the still and quiet frame of the Prime, whose optics were closed.

"Sir?"

"Hmm?" Optimus hummed in contentment, opening his optics and looking at his subordinate with dimmed blue orbs.

"Sir," Magnus felt his faceplate heat up in embarrassment as he reached over with a servo and drew small circles on the Prime's glass windows. "I… I made that up. There's no, there's no stipulation about a Prime serving to their subordinates in the book."

He'd expected for the Prime to get angry and order him, a lying, filthy, insubordinate mech, to leave his quarters. Lying for his own personal gain was against Autobot code. He braced himself for the Prime to raise his voice and throw him out. Ultra Magnus was surprised to see Optimus smile and close his optics and turn his helm to the side slightly.

"I know."


End file.
